They Came To Help
by sablecain
Summary: Twister AU -The boys stop to help a town devastated by a twister and find themselves in big trouble...and THEN Maude shows up to make things worse!
1. Chapter 1

They Came to Help

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"God dammit." Buck's voice broke the radio silence as the trio of trucks slowly navigated through the cluttered, partially blocked streets. People stared as they passed, some empty-eyed, some panicked…some crying. In various states of dress, they wandered the ruins of the town, heedless of the dark night or the steady soaking rain. A woman wearing only an oversized t-shirt stopped walking and turned toward them. Barefoot, her legs were splashed with mud and scratched bloody. Her hair was plastered to her head and, as she watched them, she absently pushed it out of her face with one hand.

Buck stopped and JD rolled down the window. "Where have they set up search and rescue?" JD questioned.

She blinked and looked around her. "I-I'm not sure they have yet." Her voice was scratchy, like she'd been yelling. "Over by the fire hall most likely…if it's still there."

"Can we help you?" Buck leaned forward, talking in front of JD. "A ride? Anything?"

She shook her head, looking around as if she was debating their offer. "No, no…go on."  
She stepped back off the roadway and let them roll on, following the gestured direction she'd given.

JD shook his head as his eyes swept over the broken wreckage. "Didn't they have any warning?" he asked, guilt filling his voice.

"It came fast, kid, hit in the middle of the night. How many folks do you know watching TV or listening to the radio at 3 am?" Buck reminded. He wanted to tell Dunne to let it go, to remember that they did their best to improve the warning systems, that it wasn't their fault it didn't always work…but he couldn't. He felt it, too.

It didn't take long to find the red lights, cutting through the darkness like bold strokes of a painter's brush. It sickened Wilmington and, as he climbed out of the truck, he took a deep breath as Chris pulled up on one side of him and Josiah on the other.

Home base for the volunteer searchers was a ragged tarp strung between two pickups. A man stood beneath it, trying to keep a pad of paper dry as he scribbled on it. He looked up as the seven storm chasers approached. "You Red Cross?" he questioned hopefully.

"No, sir," Josiah answered for them. "Just thought you could use us."

"Sure can," the man sighed and took a deep breath. "Sheriff Foster." He held out a hand. "You don't happen to have a clip board or plastic bag in one of them trucks do you?"

"I got it." JD ran through the puddles and scrambled into the tech van.

"Where do you need us?" Nathan asked. "I have some basic first aid skills," he added.

Foster nodded, already refocused on his list. "Folks are just starting to get here, still too shook up to think right now, but we got an urgent need 'round the corner here," he pointed to where he meant. "I got two of my men searching now, but the other four are scattered. We're still waiting for state emergency teams to get here."

"Here you go." JD was back, handing the sheriff a weather-proofed clipboard.

"Thanks, kid." Foster took the board and transferred his paper work beneath the plastic. "Can I put you all up here?" he pointed again. "Davis boy is missing."

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Larabee stared at the wreckage. It was too familiar. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry; his heart raced and he wasn't at all sure that he was going to be able to keep from throwing up. He knew he needed to join the others, to help find the missing boy and yet he didn't even know if he could move. He tried to step forward and felt his knees give when suddenly there was a hand on the back of his neck. With one tight squeeze, strength seemed to flow into him and he knew he wasn't going to fall.

He turned and looked into the wide blue eyes of his best friend. "Ready?" Wilmington asked quietly.

Chris shook his head. "Yes."

Vin watched as Wilmington reached out to Chris and breathed a quiet sigh of thanks. He glanced at the search area and shivered. Where a two-story house had stood less than three hours before…now there was nothing but a pile of wood. It reminded him of playing pick up sticks when he was little. One wrong move and the whole thing would collapse. Around him he could hear the others, Ezra's harsh voice cut through the rain.

"Bobby?" The southerner looked like a drowned rat but he wasn't complaining about his own state of affairs.

Josiah's voice joined in the mix, as well as Nathan's and the sheriff's men. Vin glanced at Chris again. It seemed like every time someone yelled, Larabee flinched. God, he hoped they would find the boy alive. Looking around at the devastation he shuddered again as rain continued to pound at him. He wasn't sure if Chris would be okay with this one if they didn't.

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JD stepped on a board and flailed as his mud-covered boot slipped.

"Easy." Vin was there, catching his arm and keeping him upright.

JD sighed and wiped the rain from his face. "Any luck?" he asked.

Tanner shook his head. "Not yet, but we're barely making a dent and the kid could be anywhere."

JD nodded, looking down at himself. He didn't think there was a spot on him not covered with mud. Glancing back up, he caught sight of Chris with Buck nearby.

Vin followed JD's gaze. "You know they need each other right now," he commented quietly.

Dunne nodded. "I know." He looked back up at Vin. "You think they'll be okay?" They all knew the story of Chris and Buck's past. They all knew about Chris' family and how they'd died. "This is gotta be like reliving it all," he added.

"They'll be okay, JD," Vin answered with confidence.

"How can you be so sure?"

Vin smiled, his teeth flashing brightly against his filthy face. "They have us now."

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Ezra balanced carefully on what used to be the second floor of the old house and pulled on a board and slid it carefully down to Nathan. Beneath it, he saw something shiny and reached for. Larger than he expected, it took him a minute to free it. When he pulled it out he was surprised to find a miniature grandfather clock. The pendulum had stopped swinging but amazingly, the glass face was untouched by the storm it'd endured. "Astounding," he murmured, carefully passing the antique down to Jackson.

Taking a break, he listened to Josiah continue to call out for Bobby. So far they'd found nothing. Somewhere beyond what was left of the house…Ezra heard a dull, constant roar. He turned to Nathan, wiping his wet sleeve across his face to try to clear his vision as the rain continued to fall. "What's that noise?" he asked.

Jackson paused in his tracks. "You hear the boy?"

Shaking his head, Ezra stood to his full height, balancing carefully on the boards beneath him. "No, that sound? What is that??" He tried to peer through the darkness but there was too much rain and even though the night was starting to fade to gray, it was still too dark for their flashlights to expand their visibility very far.

Turning, he looked toward the others. Josiah, JD and Vin were down by the trucks, conferencing with the Sheriff's men while Buck and Chris searched near what used to be the front of the house. He and Nathan were toward the back, higher up and closer to where the boy's bedroom had been located. "I hear something…" his voice drifted as the sound grew louder.

"I hear it too, now." Nathan stepped up closer to Standish, straining to see where the noise might be coming from. Panic filled his voice. "Another tornado?"

Ezra shook his head. "No. No. It sounds like…" he turned, hearing shouting from below. The sheriff's men were waving frantically.

"Ezra?!" Nathan's voice sounded panicky as looked back toward the sound. "That's…."

"Oh Lord," Ezra grabbed Nathan's wrist and started to scramble toward the top of the house but the loose boards just slid out from under them. "Come on!" he screamed but it was too late. He gripped Jackson's arm but the force of the blow was too powerful. Nathan was ripped out of his grasp as they both went flying, their screams swallowed by the wall of muddy water.

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Chris wiped at his brow, trying to see through the pouring rain. Moving his flashlight, he swept the muted beam of light over the mix of broken boards and household items.

"Bobby!" Buck shouted from a few feet away. The cries for the small boy had waned as the group worked. Voices were harsh from continued misuse and hope felt like it was slipping from their grasp.

Glancing around, Chris checked on his team. Nathan and Ezra were perched higher on the pile of debris, close to the back of the house. Buck was just to his right, carefully handing larger boards and manageable beams down to Vin. Chris was turning to find JD and Josiah when his light caught a flash of color. Sweeping back, he found the bright red spot and moved cautiously toward it. He moved a board and a shattered lamp, cutting his hand on some glass in the process. He ignored the sharp pain and reached for the object that'd caught his attention. It was cloth, he realized, pulling it out into the rain. The silky material was blotchy and ruined by the storm, but it still shimmered in spots as he turned it over.

A maelstrom of emotions caught in his throat as he focused on the small blue and yellow emblem on the back. His mind raced back in time and his heart broke anew as he recalled a tiny dark haired boy running full speed through the house, his cape billowing behind him.

"Adam Larabee, Freeze!" A usually sweet and gentle voice suddenly sounded harsh enough to command a platoon of soldiers as it cut through the living room.

The boy froze, poised on the back of the sofa, arms flailing for balance. "But Mom, Superman flies," he argued with simple logic.

"Not. In. this. House." Came the fading protest.

As quick as it had come, the memory slipped away. Chris blinked through the rain and tears mixing together, his fingers tracing reverently over the embroidered symbol.

"Find anything?" Buck had moved beside him.

Chris shook his head. "Just the past," he answered quietly, passing the battered cape to Wilmington. "You bought Adam one just like it for Christmas that year."

"God, Chris." Buck managed a small pained smile. "He wore it all the time."

"Drove Sarah crazy." Chris stood wearily as Buck chuckled. "Any signs of the boy yet?"

"No." Buck looked around trying to peer through the rain. "Would help if the rain would stop."

Chris nodded then paused. "You hear that?"

"Yeah, what the hell is…Oh shit!" Buck grabbed Larabee and pulled him, tripping over boards and debris toward the road.

Chris looked back as Buck continued to drag him, horrified to see Ezra and Nathan struggling to reach higher ground. Instead, it was as if the building just disintegrated beneath them. In and instant a wall of water and mud washed up over them and pulled them under.

"NO!" Chris tried to wrench free of Wilmington's grip, but someone else grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the back of a truck. Vin, Josiah, JD and Sheriff Foster scrambled with them into the truck bed, in a chaos of arms and legs.

"Go! Go!" Someone shouted and the overloaded vehicle was in motion, tearing up the hill, barely outpacing the water swirling higher around its tires.

Chris' eyes never left the spot where Nathan and Ezra had disappeared, ready to fight his way free, but stilled instantly as Josiah pulled him into a tight, unbreakable hug. "We can't lose you, too," the older man half pleaded.

"Preacher." Chris breathed heavily as the truck bounced to a sharp stop. Water reached the wheelbase but no further. Where they had been was nothing but a raging muddy river.

"I know," Josiah responded, his voice choked with emotion. "We'll find them," he added.

"Damn straight." Buck leaned against Vin, still trying to catch his breath. Tanner and JD stared out as the angry water, eyes searching already for any sign of their friends.

Sheriff Guy Foster shook his head, rain spraying off the brim. "We should be okay here, even if the water rises."

"What happened?" JD asked.

Foster shivered, his eyes still filled with shock. "Best guess, flash flood. There's a river a quarter mile north west of here that flows through the entire county. Been raining for days and it was already skimming its banks."

"And you didn't think it might've been important to warn us?" Chris exploded, trying to push past Josiah and Vin to get to Foster in the crowded truck bed.

"I'm sorry!" Foster shouted back. "Half of my town was just wiped out. I haven't even heard from a third of my men, my sister or my wife's brother to know if any of them are okay, so excuse me for being a little distracted!"

The anger seemed to melt out of Chris. "What can we do? Do you have boats?"

Foster calmed as well. "Have to wait until we can get to them. I'll send Shultz to check, but right now we don't even know if any survived the twister."

"So we wait," Buck mumbled, water lapping around the tires.

Chris leaned against the cab as the rain continued to fall and the sky began to lighten. "I hate waiting."

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Ezra struggled, spinning and flailing in the rushing water. Once he thought he'd felt ground beneath him, but something had slammed into the back of his legs, catapulting him forward again.

He broke through the surface and gasped in giant gulps of air before going under again. He tried to find Nathan but there was no time for anything but trying to stay above water. Finally, he caught a board and, clinging to it, managed to pull the top half of his body up onto it. His shirt was gone and his pants were virtually shredded. He could see nothing but dark churning water.

"Nathan!" he tried to shout, but his voice caught and he choked, coughing violently. Debris lashed and tore at him, dragging both him and the board beneath the surface and propelling him out again. Fighting to keep hold of his floatation, he was caught off guard when something beneath the water stabbed his thigh. He screamed, losing the board completely as his leg was gouged deeper. Pinned, he fought desperately, but the waves were relentless and he felt his strength slipping quickly away. He reached for whatever held him as he was dragged under. It felt like thick round metal bar…rebar, the thought crossed his mind as he realized he was skewered. His lungs burned as he struggled with the bar, pain slithering through his entire leg. Just when he thought he couldn't hold his breath any longer, the metal shifted and he was free again. Pushing to the surface he was numb and disoriented. His limbs felt like anchors and exhausted, he gave up and let the river control his path.

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Nathan clung to a tree branch, searching the churning water, swirling completely around the tree, for any sign of Ezra. He had no idea how he'd ended up in the tree, he only remembered the low roar, Ezra grabbing him and then the overwhelming panic as the ground disappeared beneath him, tearing him from Standish's grip.

His head throbbed and from the bleeding gash above his eye, and he wondered if he'd actually lost consciousness briefly. Other than the head wound, his body ached as if he'd gone three rounds with Mike Tyson, and he was freezing.

Blinking blood from his eyes he scanned the murky river again, praying that Ezra had already made it to higher ground. Then he saw the flash of skin coming toward him in the current.

"Ezra!" he screamed at Standish and inched further out on his thick branch. "This way, Ezra." He didn't even know for certain it was Ezra, he just hoped, fear growing at the person's unresponsiveness. Nathan stretched his arm out, as the body was swept closer, if he could just reach…

The body bobbed under the surface and popped back up just out of Nathan's grasp. Stretching further, Jackson barely maintained his own grasp on the tree but managed to catch a handful of hair. Pulling up, he ignored the scream of pain that burst from the other man, relief overwhelming him that, not only was it Ezra, but he'd caught him, and Standish was aware enough to feel his hair being yanked.

"Give me your hand," Nathan ordered as Ezra struggled beneath him. The current continued to pull at them both. "Now, Ezra! Give me your hand!"

Ezra was aware of pain and then suddenly it was as if the top of his head was being ripped off. He screamed, and then heard the voice yelling at him. Nathan? Adrenaline kicked him into motion, and realizing the situation, he swung a heavy arm above his tortured head. He felt Nathan's wrist and grasped desperately onto it.

Nathan took a deep breath and let go of Ezra's hair, catching Standish's wrist instead. Their hands locked around each others' arms in steel tight grips. "Hang on, Ezra," Nathan assured, ignoring the burning pain that immediately laced up his arm and through his shoulder. "I've got you."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2/5

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Chris watched impatiently as Sheriff Foster and his men began to make slow sense of the chaos. Radios crackled with continuous updates on the status of the town, and where and when emergency crews from other counties would be arriving. They'd tried to move the truck but water surrounded them and the wheels were caught deep in the thick mud. Only two of the sheriff's boats had survived the twister and Foster confirmed that they were already on their way to the stranded truckload of men.

So the group waited, huddled and cold as the dark night faded into a dreary gray morning. The only positive developments were that the rain had changed from a downpour to a light mist, and the rushing torrents of river water had settled into a deceptively calm looking body of water.

"How much longer 'til the boats get here?" JD asked for the third time since the sky had begun to lighten. He pushed his wet hair out of his face and tried to wipe the water from his tired eyes.

"Ten minutes less than the last time you asked," Buck replied, pulling at his shirt. Despite being soaked and shivering, no one complained.

"Shultz reported having to rescue a group of civilians," the sheriff spoke up. "He'll get here as soon as he can, but knowing we're safe lowers our priority."

The silence that followed Foster's statement was thick with tension until Chris stood suddenly. "I'm not doing this," he stated evenly and before anyone could argue, he'd propelled himself over the side of the truck and into the waist high water.

"Hey!" Foster's protest was cut off by the splashing of four others following Larabee. "You can't," he finally managed, staring at the group of men like they were insane. "There's no way I can take responsibility for your safety."

"Didn't ask you to." Chris scanned the area, trying to determine the shallowest areas along the banks. Though the thigh-deep water looked calm the current pulled at his legs making it a challenge to keep his footing.

"You'll get yourself…"

"Look." Josiah was the one who stepped back to the truck. "We understand your concerns, but our friends are out there. We can't just sit here and wait for a safer way to find them."

"You don't even know if they're still alive. The chances…"

Josiah's low growl cut Foster off. "Don't even finish that thought." Sanchez turned and sloshed away, not looking back at the stunned Sheriff.

They moved slowly, wading through the murky water, climbing over garbage and collapsed houses and searching desperately for any sign of Nathan and Ezra. Sometimes they encountered other people huddled for warmth and safety on the roofs of structures that had managed to survive both the storm and flood. Shocked and numb, no one seemed capable of recalling seeing two strangers.

"There!" JD shouted suddenly, pointing to a spot of blue mixed in a jumble of broken boards and shingles. All five started forward at once, relieved the current seemed to be weakening. Despite the calming water, the ground dropped beneath them forcing them to swim.

Vin reached the body first, fear icing through him as he reached out and grasped cloth. Chris arrived then and helped pull the man partly out of the boards and turn him over. Relief and dread and nausea warred within them at the discovery. The stranger was dead, his face contorted in fear and his chest torn open by glass and wood.

"Oh God." JD gagged at the freakish sight and went under, forgetting to tread water. Buck grabbed him and hauled him close.

"Easy, kid."

"But."

"It's not either of them."

"But," JD couldn't finish his thought. What if something this horrible had happened to Ezra or Nathan?

"I'll take him," Josiah said quietly. "Get him back to the sheriff and his men. They can take care of him proper, then I'll follow and catch up." With tremendous gentleness the former preacher helped Chris and Vin extricate the man from the planks that held him. Then wrapping the man's shirt tightly around him to cover the worst of the damage, Josiah began to swim. He heard Chris say, "be careful," and tears burned his eyes. He struggled through the water, his emotions rolling through him, fear of what had happened to his friends, remorse for this lost life and guilt. Guilt over the relief that this man was neither Jackson nor Standish.

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Ezra was trapped in a universe of pain. Water flowed around him, quickly receding and leaving him dangling helplessly. His body was a contradiction as fire burned in his leg and flamed in his shoulder at the same time an icy numbness crept possessively through the rest of him. His shoulder shifted, bone grinding against bone, his own weight slowly separating the joint. He cried out from the agonizing pain, but it came out as only a low gasp. A new, tormenting cramp spread up his chest and through his arm.

The cramps distracted him, taking him back to his childhood when his uncle would punish him by making him stand with his arms outstretched, each hand holding a large rock. He'd been forced to stand for hours, his uncle adding minutes every time his arms began to sag until finally his arms would just give out on him, unable to hold anything. That was when his Uncle would change tactics. He could still remember the feeling of fear, knowing what was coming, knowing that the moment his arms dropped the real punishment would begin.

The water he floated in suddenly receded again, jolting him back to the present and jerking his shoulder further out of place. His scream was silent and he swallowed compulsively, fighting the nausea that swept through him. He couldn't do this. His vision was fading.

"Nathan," he tried to speak, his head lolling backwards. He couldn't see anything but Jackson's hand on his arm. "Please," he begged, unable to finish as pain choked him and Nathan's grip tightened.

Above him, Nathan clung to the thick branch, struggling to keep his balance and not give in to the aches and pains that overwhelmed him. The rough bark cut into his arm, his chest, and the side of his face and every time he tried to adjust his grip, it scraped deeper. His lungs strained to breathe as Ezra's weight pulled him tightly against the tree and agony ripped at his shoulder, Standish growing heavier and heavier with each time the water receded.

Jackson pushed all of these distractions from his mind and tried to focus only on his grip on Ezra's arm. Stuck as he was he could see nothing. The one time he'd tried to crane to check on Ezra he'd felt himself slide further off balance and immediately froze in place. He prayed that Ezra was okay but his fear was growing. Standish's grasp didn't seem as tight as it was before. He wondered how high up in the tree they were. How deep was the water? Was it safe to let Ezra drop a few feet to the ground and then climb down himself? His restricted view prevented him from considering that option. He would hold on until help arrived. The others had to have made it to higher ground before the water hit, they would come. He'd just hold on until then. He would not let Ezra fall. He whispered it out loud like a mantra "I will not let go. I will not let go."

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The water was receding quickly, leaving behind a muddy graveyard of ruined homes and broken trees. Chris climbed over a thick tree trunk, marveling again at the frightening power of nature, and angered to his core that it was taunting him again. He refused to consider that Nathan and Ezra were gone. It didn't matter how many bodies he found in the muck. He would find his men and they would be alive.

JD sniffed and Larabee glanced at him, catching the younger man wiping his nose on his wet sleeve. Dunne was spent and, like the rest of them, he was coated in mud. The reasonable side of Larabee wanted to suggest a break, but he knew JD would fight him. His eyes swept over Buck and Vin, noting the weariness in them as well but knowing, just as JD, they would refuse to stop the search even for a moment.

Buck tripped and landed on his knees, mud splashing all over him. Larabee turned back, his eyes meeting his friend's questioning. Should they take a break? Wait for Josiah to catch up? But Wilmington shook his head and pushed back to his feet. No, they wouldn't be stopping until the search was over.

The four men walked in a line, about ten feet between each of them as they searched. They'd found three more bodies as they'd worked their way along the flood path and with guilt, had left them, noting their locations carefully. They would make sure someone returned for them, but for now…they pressed on.

"How far do you think the river carried them?" JD asked. He'd been silent since they'd found the third body.

"No telling." Vin skirted a mud-logged car, careful to check its interior for any signs of life.

The town itself sat in a valley and the flood had wiped through the backside of it before splitting off into an undeveloped ravine. Tanner was concerned that, if they hit the ravine before finding Nathan and Ezra, the chances of finding their friends alive would drop dramatically.

Chris moved closer to Tanner. "You're worried."

Vin met his gaze. "We're all worried, Cowboy."

Larabee shook his head and grunted. "Tell me."

They stopped walking, their way blocked by a construction site. Someone's dream of a new home had been torn apart by water and wind. Even the cement foundation had been torn apart by the force of the water. Vin reached out and ran his hand over a bent piece of rebar. "If it took them to the ravine…" He shrugged. "Gonna need climbing equipment at the least."

"Then we'll get some." Chris' voice was harsh.

"I know that." Tanner looked away, quietly wrestling with his own doubts. His imagination was shifting through so many different scenarios, but the feeling that time was running out was scaring the crap out of him.

"We will find them," Chris reassured gruffly as he started moving again. "We will."

They walked on in silence, again spread out to cover more ground and pausing only occasionally to search piles of debris.

"More trees here," Tanner pointed out as the topography began to change. Up until the last hundred yards the trees they'd encountered had mostly been mangled by the storm. Now, they were finally beginning to come across vegetation that'd survived the storm intact.

Suddenly Buck was shouting. He ran, tripping through the mud and falling twice. Despite the falls, he pushed himself back to his feet, still shouting unintelligibly and ran toward a small copse of trees.

From his viewpoint Chris couldn't see anything that would evoke such a reaction in Wilmington, but knowing Buck as he did…he began to run.

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Nathan knew he was fighting a losing battle. His fingers ached where he's clawed into the crevices of tree bark, trying vainly to find an anchor, but the bark simply tore away forcing him to claw again. Still, his fear of falling was nothing compared to his fear of dropping Ezra. Standish hadn't made a sound in a long time and had gone fully limp. The steel-like grip on Nathan's arm was now nothing more than a feather light touch, but Nathan refused to consider letting go. Agonizing cramps attacked his arm and he thought for sure it was being torn from his shoulder. His body screamed to let go, but the unknown condition of Ezra and their surroundings created too big a risk.

If he had any idea how high up they were. He guessed that the water had receded. It would account for the way the Southerner's weight had changed so drastically. Nathan's hand slipped as more bark broke off the branch and frantically he searched for another hold. He could feel his body sliding further off balance.

"God," he groaned. "I can't do this."

Another cramp attacked his leg and he cried out in pain and frustration. He couldn't give up. As much as he wanted to just let go, he couldn't. He wouldn't.

"I won't," he whispered into the gritty bark. "I won't."

He closed his eyes again trying to picture himself anywhere else. Even a cheap dumpy hotel room like the one they'd stayed in the night before. What he wouldn't give for the hard uncomfortable mattress, Standish's annoying complaints and Buck and JD's incessant bickering. He could even hear Buck shouting at JD now… Wait. It was Buck; he could hear him. 'Oh please don't let this be my imagination. Please' he  
thought before he let out a desperate yell for Wilmington.

"Buck!" Nathan's throat was raw as he screamed in desperation. "BUCK!"

Wilmington ran as fast as his mud laden legs would carry him. "Hang on! Hang on." The sight in front of him both relieved and scared the tar out of him. Nathan and Ezra dangled from a high tree. The flood water had receded leaving Ezra's feet swaying just about five or six feet above the ground, not a horribly far fall, but enough to do damage if one was not prepared for it, and from the way Ezra was hanging…

Buck slid as he tried to stop, landing on his butt with a muddy splash and scrambling back up again. He didn't know who to help first. It was obvious that Nathan was struggling to keep hold on the tree but Buck couldn't reach Jackson. Before he could grab Standish, Chris was there, reaching up and grabbing Ezra's legs. Buck could hear JD and Vin right behind him.

"We're here, Nathan," he reassured, stretching up and trying to reach Jackson.

"Oh God," JD gasped as Chris began barking orders.

"JD, help Buck get Nathan. Vin…"

"I'm here." Vin moved into place beside Larabee, ready to catch and support Ezra's torso and head.

"Easy, Nate." Buck was still talking. "We got Ezra now. Chris and Vin have him. You can let go."

Jackson didn't release his grip at first. Instead, he tightened it and growled, "No," fighting the feeling of Ezra slipping away.

"Nathan, let go," Buck demanded, almost harshly. Then as Chris and Vin moved Ezra from his grasp, Nathan lost his grip on the tree and fell with a rough shout.

Buck and JD were there to catch him, both going down to their knees from his weight.

"Don't let go," he whispered.

"No, Nathan. We got you. You did good, you never let go."

Jackson was banged up and shirtless. The tree's bark had torn up his chest, face and arms, leaving him covered with hundreds of bloody scratches and scrapes. "Ezra." Nathan moved, struggling to sit up as cramps wracked his body.

"Easy now, stay still." Wilmington was amazed at how cold Nathan's skin felt. "Vin and Chris got him."

"He's hurt." Jackson continued to struggle and JD moved closer to help still him.

"So are you," the younger man reminded. He pulled off his soaked, muddy sweatshirt and quickly peeled off the wet but relatively clean t- shirt he wore under it. Gently he dabbed at Jackson's head wound with the semi-clean cloth, wiping blood and grit out of Nathan's face.

Nathan calmed slightly, relaxing at Dunne's touch but started immediately to shiver. "Check on Ezra, Buck, please," he whispered, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip in an effort to control his chattering teeth. "He's been out for so long."

"Okay, okay. Stay still for JD." Buck moved around Dunne, scooting over to where Vin and Chris were working on Ezra. Standish remained unconscious, and extremely pale beneath his mask of mud. "How is he?"

Vin shook his head. "Alive, for now." He ran his hands gently over Ezra's head and neck, careful not to move him much as he searched for obvious injuries. He paused at the Southerner's shoulder, prodding gently. Ezra moaned.

"Shoulder must be out. Feels wrong." Vin kept going.

"Shit," Chris interrupted the quiet exam.

"What?" Both Tanner and Wilmington asked together.

"Blood," Larabee held up his hand, showing them.

"From where?" Buck questioned as Tanner and Larabee searched frantically now.

"Here." Chris pointed out, pushing Ezra's shredded pant leg away from his thigh.

"Oh hell." Vin tried to wipe the dirt away. "It's a puncture, roll him."

Chris understood and nodded to Buck for help. Together they carefully turned Standish onto his side.

"Went straight through." Vin started peeling his own long sleeved t-shirt off.

"It's muddy," Buck protested.

"It's all we've got and he's already covered in mud." Vin ignored Wilmington's protest. From behind them they heard Nathan stirring.

"Buck," Jackson said weakly. "Give him your belt. He's still bleeding."

"But,"

"Look," Vin interrupted. "It's this or letting him bleed to death. Hell knows how long they were hanging there as is." His eyes flashed angrily.

Buck clawed at his waist, in answer. His cold fingers slow and clumsy. Finally he had the buckle undone and was handing Vin the leather strap.

Carefully and quickly, Vin applied a simple tourniquet, listening to Nathan's quiet instructions. "That's it," Tanner said as he sat back on his heels. "That's the extent of my first aid skills. We need to get both of them real help."

"I'm fine," Jackson tried to protest, unconvincingly as he leaned against JD for support.

Chris stood, scanning the area for any signs of emergency crews or a way out.

"Can we carry him?" Dunne asked.

"No," Nathan stirred, his voice harsh. "We don't know what kind of internal injuries he might have. We need to immobilize him." He flexed his arm slowly, grimacing at the feeling that fiery needles were stabbing his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Chris looked down at him.

"Been better, but I can walk if needed."

"No." Chris shook his head. "I don't want you accidentally hurting something worse, and I'm not moving Ezra."

"I'll go." Buck stood, hefting his jeans to his waist as they sagged. "We can't just wait."

Chris nodded then glanced back toward the way they'd come again. "You hear that?"

"What?" JD's voice was panicky.

"Engines" Vin put his hand on Dunne's shoulder, reassuring him. "Someone's coming."

"All terrains, there." Buck pointed toward the weak lights flashing in the distance. "I'm going." He took off, running again, anxious to get help or to at least get his hands on a radio.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

part 3/5

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Josiah wiped his forearm across his face, steering the four-wheeler with one hand and narrowly missed running into a mass of downed tree limbs. He swerved sharply, showering himself in a fresh splattering of mud, but didn't slow down. His eyes scanned the devastation around him, searching for any sign of Chris and the others, praying they had already found Nathan and Ezra safe and well even as his heart told him that would take a miracle.

He didn't want to doubt. He didn't want to lose hope, but the heaviness and fear pressed in regardless of his wants. He'd just carried a dead man through muck and mire only to deliver him to distraught screams of denial and outrage. Hope was fleeting. Sanchez shook the image from his head. He had to concentrate on finding the living.

When he'd reached help with his burden and passed the body on to those who could take proper care of it, he'd taken the few extra moments to check in with Sheriff Foster. To his relief, county and state rescue crews were already arriving and he'd been able to commandeer an emergency ATV for his own search.

Off to his right, he saw movement and immediately turned towards it, bumping over the cluttered terrain and bouncing wildly in the seat. He didn't recognize the stumbling man until he pulled the ATV to a stop in front of him. "Buck?"

"Josiah!" Wilmington was covered in mud, bent over and gasping for only a minute before he started climbing onto the four-wheeler behind Josiah. "That way!" he shouted, pointing. "Hurry."

Josiah's mind raced with questions, but the roar of the engine was too loud to even consider conversation; instead, he followed Buck's gestured directions and cranked the accelerator.

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Chris knelt in the thick cold mud, unable to take his eyes off Standish's unresponsive face, though he could hear the ATV getting closer. So far, Ezra hadn't regained consciousness and Larabee wasn't sure whether that was good or bad. His gaze swept over the southerner's exposed body, taking in the bruised, battered chest, the cuts and scrapes, the bleeding, ugly leg wound…all of it. It overwhelmed him, sparking his anger even as he gently took one of Ezra's ice-cold hands in his own.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. Vin reached out, trying again to clean the mud from Ezra's face and merely smearing it. They weren't even supposed to be here. The team had been two towns over, following the storm's patterns when they'd seen the twister forming. Instinctively, they'd come, even knowing they'd be too late to record any usable data. They came to help.

Chris glanced up at Nathan, still leaning against JD for support, both men visibly shivering. The air had turned cold despite the fact that the sun was trying to break through the lingering clouds. He shouldn't have let them come; the thought crossed his mind followed immediately by the question—and how would he have stopped them? He might be the so-called boss of this ragged, mismatched group of chasers, but he didn't delude himself into thinking he held much sway over any of them if they had their stubborn minds set. They all would have argued if he'd said they weren't going to come here and try to help. Still…he should have tried. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Beating yourself up ain't gonna change this."

Chris looked up sharply as Vin's soft voice cut through his thoughts. "Shouldn't have happened," he argued, meeting Tanner's intense gaze.

Tanner shook his head. "You can't control everything, Cowboy. We all came into this knowing the risks."

"Ezra didn't ask for this. Nathan either," Chris snapped darkly. The roar of the ATV was suddenly very loud. He looked up, able to recognize Josiah and Buck as they pulled up beside the group.

Vin caught Chris' arm as he started to rise. "They didn't ask for it, but they always know the possibilities. This is not on you, Chris." He let go as Larabee pulled back. "Let it go. They need you focused on helping them now."

Chris stared as Vin moved quickly to help Buck unload emergency supplies from the specially equipped four-wheeler, wondering how the man could always read him so accurately and knowing Tanner was right. "That thing have a radio, Preacher?" he asked Josiah, kneeling again beside Ezra.

Sanchez nodded, his face stricken as he obviously tried to take in Ezra and Nathan's conditions.

"See if they can get a chopper in here."

Josiah tore his gaze away from Standish as he reached blindly for the radio. He scanned the area, trying to gauge their position as well as the likelihood of setting a helicopter down.

Nathan directed Vin and Buck as JD wrapped one of the emergency blankets around his trembling shoulders, describing how to wrap Ezra's leg without removing the tourniquet. "You're going to have to strap that one arm to his chest if you think his shoulder's out. He explained weakly to Tanner.

"How do we do that without moving him too much?" Buck asked.

"We can use this," Vin held up the backboard from the ATV. We'll strap his arm down when we roll him onto it."

"Be careful," Nathan warned. "Use the neckbrace."

"Chris." Josiah waved Larabee over to the ATV, letting him get out of Vin and Buck's way.

"What?" Chris didn't like the look on Sanchez's face.

"They can't send a chopper."

"Why not?" Chris glared at the radio.

"They only have one at the moment and it's already transporting a lady in premature labor." Josiah sighed heavily, scratching his chin. "We can wait for them to get back…"

"No," Nathan interrupted determinedly.

Chris turned to see Jackson standing shakily, one arm draped over JD's shoulders. Nathan looked down at Buck and Vin carefully binding Ezra's injured leg. "He doesn't have time to wait. It's been too long already."

"But you said we shouldn't move him." JD pointed out.

Nathan looked back at Chris. "The backboard might stabilize him enough to get him out of here, but if we wait." He shook his head, his shoulders sagging wearily.

"What?" Larabee questioned fearfully.

"He could lose the leg, Chris." Nathan choked on the words.

Everyone froze, slowly turning to look at Nathan and then down at Ezra's still form. The reality of Jackson's admission slowly sunk in and suddenly everyone was in motion.

"Tell them to have an ambulance waiting for us at Base," Chris ordered Josiah as he knelt again to help Buck and Vin move Ezra smoothly onto the backboard.

"Wrap the other blanket around him," Nathan instructed, moving back out of the way.

"Nathan, get on the ATV. We'll put Ezra on the back. Josiah will drive." Chris waited for Vin's signal before lifting his end of the board supporting Ezra.

"We'll have to go slow," Jackson reminded as JD helped him onto the four-wheeler.

"Slow and steady." Josiah breathed deeply, watching Chris and Vin hold Ezra in place while Buck tightened the straps holding him to the emergency rescue machine, and trying not to think of the bumpy, rutted terrain that lay ahead of them.

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_Ezra shivered under the cold watchful gaze of his uncle. The barn, long empty of animals, was freezing and he could see his breath as he labored to keep his arms stretched out, parallel with the ground. He didn't know how long he'd been standing in the hated structure. It was old and spooky, dimly lit and filled with memories that bred only nightmares; all he knew was that the day had slipped into night, the shadows had crept in and he was out of time. His elbows ached and his shoulders burned. The large smooth rocks in each hand had somehow turned into boulders and he couldn't hold onto them much longer._

_Ezra's slight body trembled from fear and exhaustion and he startled unwittingly when his uncle shifted, adjusting his position on the moldy hay bale across from him. Ezra's eyes widened as he recognized the worn leather strap in his uncle's hands. A small mocking smile appeared on the familiar features as the older man calmly snapped the leather._

_Ezra flinched at the sharp sound, his eyes closed. His knees wobbled and the rocks slipped from his hands landing with thunderous thuds on the hard packed earthen floor. His arms fell heavily to his sides. He heard his uncle stand_.

Ezra came to with a harsh scream. Agony tore through him. His leg and shoulder throbbed. Everything hurt. Disoriented, he tried to sit up but tight straps held him still. Vertigo attacked as the cloudy sky seemed to tip and bounce above him. Despite the horrible pain, he struggled more.

Suddenly, Chris came into view. Moving oddly above him, adding to his dizziness. He felt Larabee's hand on his chest and could see his friend's lips moving, but a deafening roar drowned out any words.

Ezra tried to turn his head, tried to lift it, but it too was held still, braced by an unseen, unrelenting force. Panic seized him. Chris looked at something beyond him and all motions stopped abruptly. Ezra cried out from the jolt. "Please," he rasped, unable to hear his own words. The overwhelming roar puttered away.

"Ezra?" Chris was looking down at him again. Larabee's hand moved on his chest, comforting. "You're gonna be okay. We're getting you to help as fast as we can." Ezra strained against the straps, breathing heavily. "Calm down Ezra. You're okay but we have to keep moving. I'm staying right here, I promise." Chris assured before nodding again to Josiah.

"What?" Ezra tried to ask, but the noise was back, the vibrations rolled through his body like tiny knives, slicing at his skin. The world jerked into torturous motion again.

He was so cold. Ezra closed his eyes to block out the bizarre movements of the sky. He swallowed compulsively, trying to calm himself. Chris had said it was okay, he was okay but…what had happened? He remembered his uncle, had thought he was being loaded into an ambulance again for a moment, but that was years ago, before Chris and the chaser team. Where was he now? Images flashed through his mind. A storm, a destroyed home, an antique clock, they rolled together as the horror of feeling Nathan's hand being torn from his and the massive wave of water pummeling him came back.

"Nathan," he gasped, trying again to move against the restraints, his fear overwhelming him. What happened to Nathan? Chris had said they were getting help. They were transporting him on some kind of vehicle, that was obvious, but where was Jackson? The thought of Nathan lost in the muddy icy water sickened him, adding to the nausea he barely kept at bay.

He bounced hard and bumped, each movement sending shards of new pain through him. He wanted to escape it all, but he gritted his teeth against the rising panic of being tied down, out of control and focused on Chris' promise not to leave him. He could deal with the fear and the pain as long as he knew he wasn't alone. The world suddenly tilted drastically, lurching and dropping with a sharp thudding jolt. His body jerked mercilessly and he screamed and let the darkness overcome him.

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Chris watched Ezra intensely, searching for any signs of consciousness. It'd only been a few minutes since he'd had Josiah stop so he could briefly explain to Ezra what was happening. He knew Standish was probably still confused. He'd been able to see the panic clearly in the Southerner's green eyes, but they didn't have time to stop and comfort him. Ezra didn't have the time.

He watched Ezra's hands move frantically against the backboard, obviously struggling and he wished there was some way to reassure Standish. Chris was about to step closer to the ATV and take Ezra's hand when the four-wheeler bounced sharply, tipped precariously and slammed to a sudden stop.

Everyone heard Ezra's scream.

Chris reached forward. "Ezra?"

Nathan turned on the back of the ATV reaching for Ezra's wrist. "I think he just blacked out again."

"What happened?" Buck asked as Josiah tried to restart the vehicle.

"We hit a deep patch of mud," Sanchez answered. The motor sputtered, the wheels spun, kicking up giant clods of mud. "We're stuck," Josiah admitted fearfully.

"No." Chris shook his head. "We can't be."

"I thought these things couldn't get stuck." JD looked at Ezra worriedly, not addressing his comment to anyone specifically.

Chris motioned for Vin. "We'll push it out."

Tanner took a spot behind the other rear wheel, trying to find a place he could use to push and nodded to Chris that he was ready.

Josiah revved the motor again. Chris and Vin pushed, slipping and sliding in the thick, clinging mud. The ATV rocked, sinking deeper into the muck. The engine spluttered and died. "No. No." Josiah frantically tried to restart the machine, glancing at Vin for help.

Tanner shook his head. The four wheeler had sunk to deep into the mud. They were stuck.

"Radio for help," Chris ordered, still pushing the ATV.

"Chris." Vin reached out. "We need to keep moving. We don't have time to dig this thing out."

Larabee looked at the others. They were exhausted, freezing, coated in mud and they were waiting for him. "Unstrap the board. We'll carry him from here." He glanced at Jackson. "Can you walk?"

Nathan nodded slowly. "Have to."

Quickly Vin and Chris undid the backboard from the ATV and hefted it between them. JD and Buck moved to help, and Josiah walked beside Nathan ready to assist him if needed. "We're over halfway," the former preacher encouraged. "Won't take us long to get to base."

Chris knew that Josiah was right; it really wouldn't take them much longer to get to base, but each minute seemed like it was sixty seconds too long. Ezra remained unconscious.

They'd made it about a hundred yards when Chris stopped, surprising the other three helping him carry Ezra.

"What?" Buck started to ask, but Chris held up a hand, silencing him.

Larabee motioned for Josiah to move up and take his spot at the backboard, again signaling for everyone to be quiet. He didn't know if his eyes were playing tricks on him or not, but he knew he needed to check to be sure. To their right was a small grassy bank that gently sloped up towards a copse of trees. Several branches and uprooted bushes had collected at the base of one of the few unharmed trees. Chris could see the flash of color…he licked his lip, taking a deep breath as he carefully stepped closer.

"Bobby?" he called out hesitantly, unsure if he'd slipped into desperate wishful thinking. "Bobby is that you?"

There was a moment of complete silence when it felt as if even the world had stopped turning and then the leaves rustled softly. Slowly, tentatively, the small boy stepped free from the brush. Still fully dressed in his flannel batman pajamas, covered in mud and soaking wet, the blond haired little boy shivered uncontrollably. His big blue eyes were filled with fear and confusion and his bottom lip trembled. "I want momma," he admitted in a soft whisper.

Chris held out his hand, stepping closer so he could reach the child. "I know you do. Can I help you find her?"

Bobby looked at him and then around him to the others, staring unbelievable at the scene before them. "Are you helping him?" Bobby pointed to Ezra.

"Sure am." Chris took another step closer.

Bobby eyed him for only another moment before reaching out to be picked up. Chris scooped the boy into his arms, pushing back the wave of emotions that swamped him as tiny arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "I'm cold," Bobby whispered, shivering as he clung to Chris.

"Me too." Chris wrapped his arms around Bobby, rubbing the boy's back. He turned to the group still watching in awed silence. "Let's go," he said simply, thankful his voice some how stayed steady.

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Sheriff Guy Foster looked up at the gray, cloud-mottled sky and let out a deep weary sigh. What he wouldn't give for a simple ray of sunlight, a symbol of hope, a sign that the worst of this horrible night and day was coming to an end. Instead, dreary and exhausted, he turned back to the rescue base.

His simple tarp between two trucks had become a mini tent city. Search and Rescue crews from all over the state coordinated under the main green tent, its flaps tied open so he could see the bustle of activity inside. To the left of the main tent, a Red Cross relief tent supplied food, warm drinks, blankets and rest for both survivors and volunteers. Just beyond the Red Cross tent, a first aid center was available for treating minor injuries. The constant wail and flash of ambulances coming and going punctuated the entire scene as they transported the more seriously injured to waiting hospitals. Foster couldn't force himself to look at the other drab gray tent that'd been set up as a makeshift morgue.

"Sheriff?" He looked up sharply, startled by his Deputy's approach. "Sorry, thought you could use this." Deputy Wilkins handed him a Styrofoam cup. Steam escaped from the plastic lid.

"Thanks." Guy let the hot steam warm his face as he held the cup to his lips. "How're things progressing?" he questioned.

"Steadily." Wilkins shifted his own cup in his big hands. "Three teams are still out searching. The fourth is catching some rest."

"Hear anything more from that group of chasers?"

Wilkins shook his head. "Not since they radioed in that the ATV was stuck. Don't know how long it'll take them to come in on foot, but we have a wagon waiting."

Guy nodded, still amazed by the determination of Larabee's group to find their men. When he'd seen the Davis house melt away in the flood, he was sure the two men who'd been caught in the wave were lost for good, but Larabee seemed to defy nature itself by insisting on searching for them. "Any news on the Davis boy?"

Wilkins glanced at the Red Cross tent where the Davis family waited before answering with a quick shake of his head. "No."

"Damn." Guy sipped the hot coffee, thankful for its warmth, but wishing it could melt the icy fear growing inside. As a parent himself, Foster couldn't imagine the agony of not knowing where his child was in this mess. He closed his eyes, picturing Bobby and his daughter Julie playing in the town pool where they took swimming lessons together. God, he didn't want to explain this to his little girl. He didn't want to look into the pain-filled eyes of Robert Davis and tell him they still hadn't found his son.

"Oh God. Sheriff, look." Wilkins's stricken voice created a new bolt of fear through Foster as he opened his eyes and followed the Deputy's gesture.

He knew, even as he watched them move across the ruined land, that he'd never forget the sight. They moved together, slowly but steadily, Covered with mud and virtually unrecognizable. Foster marveled that despite the obvious exhaustion, despite the brutal elements and the array of injuries, they all still moved with the same determination and defiance they'd had at the start of their search. They had found their own and nothing was going to stop them from getting to the help they needed.

The first four men carried a back board between them, supporting a fifth man and, just behind them, Foster recognized Larabee as he assisted another injured man. As his eyes settled on Larabee, Foster's heart began to race. "Wilkins!" he called, moving towards the group now. "Get Robert Davis out here! Get him now!" Foster ran, ignoring the mud splashing on his legs and jumping over a stack of torn siding. His eyes never left Larabee.

He could see the worry and the fear in the men's faces now as he approached. Their battle wasn't over yet. He glanced down at the battered man on the backboard. "There's an ambulance waiting for him," he said quickly. "And you, too." He smiled weakly at the tall black man who leaned heavily on Larabee with each step. "The boy, is he?" Foster could only see the top of Bobby's head buried against Larabee's neck.

"Seems fine," Larabee answered. "Just cold and scared."

Behind him, Foster could hear voices raised in excitement. A woman was screaming and he turned to see Linda Davis running through the muck, keeping stride with her husband. Medical crews raced after them. "It's gonna be okay now." Foster felt confident suddenly, hopeful. The chasers had found their men…and Bobby Davis. They'd brought hope back into a painful day.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

part 4/5

* * *

Chris wasn't sure what he had expected upon their arrival at Base, but it wasn't the sudden overwhelming chaos that erupted around them. Bobby's tight grip on his neck had loosened as soon as the young boy had heard his mother's anxious voice, and he'd leapt to her almost before she was close enough to catch him. Before Chris could turn his attention to Ezra or Nathan, medical personnel descended in a swarm, pushing him one direction and rushing Ezra and Nathan in another.

"I need to stay with my men," he'd insisted as a warm blanket was thrown over his shoulder and he was ushered into the first aid tent. He tried to peer around the mass of bodies but Nathan and Ezra had both disappeared from sight. He'd lost them…again.

"You're men are being cared for." The reply was quick and drowned out by a bombardment of questions. He could hear Vin and Josiah and Buck and JD all protesting as medics insisted on examining each of them. Tired, confused and frustrated, Larabee fought for control. "I need," he repeated between clenched teeth. "To be with my men." He shoved away a hand trying to clean mud from his face. "Where are Ezra Standish and Nathan Jackson?"

Sheriff Foster appeared amongst the throng of strange faces. "Your men are all receiving the best individual care," he reassured.

"I need to see them," Chris insisted. "They shouldn't be alone. They're hurt and…" He pushed hands away again, shoving harder. "I'm not injured," he growled.

"We understand that," the Sheriff countered. "Your men are already being transported to the hospital but you're cold and exhausted. Take a minute to clean up and rest."

Chris grabbed Foster by the front of his jacket. "You sent them to the hospital alone?" he hissed. He gave Foster a hard shake. He'd promised Ezra he wouldn't leave him and now this man had allowed them to be separated again. He didn't see the paramedic or the syringe until it sank deep into the flesh of his upper arm.

"Shit!" He jerked back. "What the hell did you do?" he turned on the medic, already feeling the warmth burning in his arm. Heaviness began coming over him. He staggered.

"Chris?" He heard Buck bellow his name. It sounded muffled and distorted. His clouding eyes searched out the Sheriff's anxious face. "I'm gonna kill somebody," he gasped as his knees buckled and his vision went dark.

Instantly Foster knew he was in trouble.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Buck knelt over Larabee's unconscious from as Vin pulled the medic away and pushed him out of the way. "Are you nuts?"

"It was just something to help him rest. He wouldn't calm down," Foster protested.

"That was calm," Vin raised his voice harshly.

Buck closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard Josiah start in.

"How long will he be out?" Sanchez asked roughly.

"An hour or so," the medic spoke up. "It's fast acting but not very long lasting."

"Where were Ezra and Nathan taken?" JD asked from where he sat on a cot, wrapped in a blanket. His eyes focused on Chris. Even unconscious Larabee seemed fierce.

Foster looked from man to man, their faces were lined with anger and worry and realized suddenly that the same determination and defiance he'd admired was now focused directly on him. "One of the area hospitals."

"One of?" Vin glared at him. "You don't know which one?"

Foster cleared his throat. "I can find out, but you can't go anywhere until…." He looked down at Larabee's prone from.

"Find out," JD ordered, standing up. The exhaustion in the young man's voice did not diminish his anger. "Now."

With one last look at the beaten, angry group, Foster nodded once and headed to the main tent.

"What do we do about Chris?" JD asked suddenly sounding as tired as he looked.

"Get him in a truck and out of here so he doesn't actually kill anyone when he comes to." Buck motioned for Josiah's help. "I've had enough of this place. How about you?"

"Right there with you, we've done all we can here." Josiah knelt and helped lift Chris. "Let's find our missing Brothers."

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Ezra strained against the straps that held him in place, wanting to pull away from the hands that ruthlessly poked and prodded his battered body. He tried to fight against the plastic mask that that settled over his nose and mouth, but he couldn't move. He had no control.

Cold gloved fingers pried open his eyelids and prevented him from blinking against the harsh blinding light. He tried to cry out, but his voice was muffled and lost even to his own ears. Noise swarmed about him, machines hummed and beeped, strange voices shouted, plastic crinkled and metal banged against metal. He felt the sharp prick of a needle being driven into his restrained arm and the coolness of the metal blade that skimmed his skin as what remained of his clothing was cut away from his body.

Someone touched his leg and fire tore through him. He screamed and thrashed against his bonds. A soft feminine voice whispered shallow reassurances as he gasped through the agony and sought to hear a familiar voice in the din.

Ezra's tear filled eyes searched frantically among the myriad of faces for Chris, or any of the others but there were only strangers gawking down at him. He felt himself drifting as cool air rushed against his face. Somewhere he heard a surprised voice, "That's Maude Harrington's son."

The soft voice grew louder in its reassurances, his awareness suddenly magnified but all Ezra knew was the terrifying truth that he was alone.

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Nathan struggled with his anger as the medical personnel came and went around him. First he'd been forced to ride in a separate ambulance than Ezra and now, no one would give him any information about Standish's condition.

"Please," he tried again, grimacing as a nurse easily slid an IV needle into the back of his hand. A second nurse laid another warmed blanket over him as he tried to sit up. "I need to find out about Ezra Standish."

A gentle hand on his chest stilled him. "Mr. Jackson, if you don't remain still, I'm going to have to restrain you." The doctor had arrived. He spoke calmly, but his threat was clear.

"He doesn't like hospitals," Nathan insisted, recalling the many times that Ezra refused to even get checked out for minor injuries. Jackson frowned. God, his head hurt.

"Your friend will be fine. He's in our trauma room now and, if you promise to cooperate with me…I'll have someone check on him as soon as possible."

Nathan bit back a retort about not being five years old and listened to the doctor ordering a battery of tests, only half of which he was familiar with. He felt helpless. Ezra needed him and he couldn't even get the doctors around him to treat him like an adult. His head throbbed, his shoulder continued to burn, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

A heavy wave of loneliness settled over him, despite the knowledge and comfort of finally being safe. He was fighting his own panic. Ezra hadn't been in good shape and Nathan needed some reassurance that his friend was okay. What he wanted most was to see a familiar face, to have someone squeeze his hand and remind him that everything would end up fine.

Exhaustion was setting in; his body was taking over and demanding he sleep and for the umpteenth time since he was loaded into the ambulance, Jackson wondered where the hell the rest of his team was.

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Chris stormed down the hallway, ignoring the frightened, shocked and curious looks cast his way. He didn't care; his sole intent was to find the ICU. Intensive care unit, critical care, trauma unit…it didn't matter what name it was called, it all meant the same thing. It was hell, plain and simple, and right now Ezra was there alone.

He slowed his step as he neared the nurses' station and took a calming breath. A short, slightly overweight nurse with floral print scrubs and a nametag reading 'Bailey' looked up at him as he approached. Her eyes widened slightly and he wondered how she would have reacted before he'd taken the time to clean up.

"I'm here to see Ezra Standish," he stated flatly.

"Are you family?" Her question was routine and he answered without pause.

"Yes."

"Mr. Standish was just transferred from recover…"

"I know," Chris interrupted. "I've been waiting."

It felt like he'd been waiting forever. When he'd awakened in the truck, he'd been groggy, disoriented and furious. Then when they'd finally gotten to the hospital, they weren't allowed to see Ezra or Nathan because of their own conditions of half dress and filth. The entire group had been coerced into exams in the ER. Cuts and bruises tended, Chris' hand was disinfected and stitched up and, after quick showers and clean clothes, …it was into the waiting room. He'd paced the room, uncomfortable in his ill-fitting scrubs and cursed out the one window at the raging river that wound through town, until finally…they'd been allowed to see Nathan.

Though Jackson was in stable condition, the nurses would only allow him two visitors at a time. They'd taken turns, pairing up to visit Nathan and attempting to reassure him. Despite the strained shoulder, broken ribs, and concussion Jackson insisted he was okay, but he was obviously in pain and very worried about Ezra.

Chris was tired of the waiting room. He hated hospitals and couldn't remember being in one since he'd lost Sarah and Adam. Just when he'd reached his limit, a nurse had appeared informing them that Ezra was out of surgery and would be transferred to ICU as soon as he got out of recovery. There was no question that Chris would be the one to go to him.

Larabee followed Nurse Bailey now towards the closest room. His thoughts of the last few hours quickly erased as he viewed the cubicle of glass walls, easily monitored from the main station. He tried to steel himself for what was waiting, reminding himself that Ezra had been alone for too long already.

"He won't be awake for a while yet," the nurse informed him softly. "You have ten minutes."

Chris wanted to argue that he wouldn't leave, but from the set of Nurse Bailey's face…he knew he'd lose, so he simply stepped past her, into the tiny space.

He stood in the doorway, his eyes taking in the bandages, the tubes, the needles and he swallowed his panic. He wanted suddenly to turn and run back to the waiting room.

The bed almost filled the small space along with a myriad of machines and equipment that somehow all seemed attached to Ezra. It was like Standish wasn't real. His bruised chest was uncovered and the pale tone of his skin made him look like wax statue. The room was unbearably warm and Chris felt like he was the unwitting fool in some badly written horror movie. Any minute now the eerie quiet would explode into alarms and minor chords. Ezra would sit up in bed, growling and reaching for him…but instead Standish remained unnervingly still. It was scarier than any movie Chris could imagine.

He moved forward and stood beside the bed. He wanted to reach out to Ezra but he didn't know where to touch him with all the tubes and wires in the way. Finally, he gently laid his hand on the top of Ezra's head and leaned close.

"I'm here, Ezra," he whispered softly. "I'm here."

There was no chair to sit in, so he stayed where he was, standing close, and gently massaging Ezra's head. He could do this, he realized as his initial fear began to subside. Ezra needed him and he'd be here for him. He'd promised to stay. Gradually, he started to relax. He would be here for Ezra.

"What the hell is HE doing here?" A shrill voice exploded through the calm of the ICU, and Larabee stiffened, recognizing it immediately. "I demand that you get that man away from my son, this instant!"

Chris bit his tongue as he listened to both a hospital administrator and Maude Harrington read Nurse Bailey the riot act for letting him in to see Ezra. Beside him, two security guards glared, ready to drag him off at the first opportunity.

"He said he was Mr. Standish's relation," Nurse Bailey tried to explain, shooting Chris a look of betrayal, and he almost felt bad for putting her in the current situation.

"He is NOT related to my son," Maude protested haughtily.

"Don't you know who this is?" The administrator sounded shocked.

Chris was tired of all of it. "I'm as close to Ezra as a brother," he stated evenly. His anger was near the breaking point and all he wanted was to get back to Ezra's side.

For all her indignation…Maude had yet to so much as glance at her only son.

"You have no right," Maude virtually spat at him, stepping closer. "I want him arrested." She glanced at the administrator. "Now."

The administrator suddenly looked uncomfortable as he tugged lightly at the collar of his expensive suit. He shook his head. "I'm sorry Mrs. Harrington, but there are no grounds for anything that drastic."

"My husband owns this hospital," Maude reminded as if the man was daft. "I can have you…"

"Maude," Chris interrupted.

"Be quiet, Mr. Larabee. You have no right to speak to me," she declared furiously.

"Mrs. Harrington," the administrator tried again to calm her. "We apologize for the confusion, but Mr. Larabee has been removed from your son's room and will furthermore be barred from the intensive care unit."

"No way." Chris spoke in spite of knowing he was in a losing battle. "You can't do that. I promised I'd stay with Ezra. I promised him."

Maude's eyes flashed as she straightened indignantly. "You'll do no such thing. It's your fault he's even in there, hooked up to all those machines, dragging him around in all sorts of dangerous weather. The doctor already filled me in on everything and it's your fault he might lose his leg. You stay away from my son." She turned again glowering at the administrator. "And you," she poked the nervous man's chest. "You make sure he stays away or you'll be looking for a new job."

With that final threat, she turned away from both of them, took a deep breath and calmly approached her son's room.

The small group watched her in silence a moment before the administrator rubbed a hand over his balding scalp and focused his resolved brown eyes on Larabee. "You will not enter this area of the hospital again," He held up a hand, cutting off Chris' protest. "And if you or any of your associates attempt to see Mr. Standish or sneak into the ICU, you will be barred from the hospital permanently." He sighed heavily as Chris shook his head.

"You can't," Chris argued.

"I can." He nodded to the guards.

"Let's go." One of the guards grabbed Chris' upper arm, but Larabee immediately jerked free.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me." Chris snarled, pushing the man back a step as he stormed angrily towards the elevator doors.

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"How's Ezra?" Nathan was the first to see Chris enter his semi-private room. The nurses had finally given permission for the entire group to visit Jackson, and everyone turned expectantly as Larabee came in. JD and Vin sat on the room's second and currently unoccupied bed while Josiah had pulled a chair closer to Nathan. Buck sat in a second chair, tipping it back against the wall and balancing on its two back legs. They were all dressed in secondhand scrubs and looked like a group of interns after a three-day rotation.

Chris tried to rein his anger in enough to answer.

"Chris?" Tanner's voice was filled with fear.

"I only saw him a few minutes." Chris found his voice. "He's critical. Looked…" He shrugged helplessly, unable to find words to describe Ezra's condition.

"They limit your visitation time?" Jackson asked.

"Kicked me out."

"Why?" JD looked shocked. "He needs someone with him. What if he doesn't remember what happened to the rest of us? He'll freak out if he wakes up alone."

Chris glared and tried to remind himself not to lash out at JD. "Maude," he growled finally.

"Oh shit." Buck leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

"What's she doing here?" Josiah questioned. None of them had considered calling her.

Chris sighed wearily, feeling the effects of the night and day, and shook his head. "Her current husband happens to own this hospital."

"You're kidding." Nathan sank deeper into his pillows. How could this day get any worse?

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Chris snapped. "She got me kicked out and we've all been barred from the ICU."

"What'd Ezra say?" Vin asked.

"He was still unconscious."

"So he doesn't even know you were there at all?" Josiah rubbed a hand across his eyes, thinking.

"Nope and if we attempt to see him- we'll get kicked out altogether."

"What about Nathan?" JD slid off the bed and stepped closer to Nathan's.

"We wouldn't be allowed back to see him either."

"Damn it, waking up and finding Maude there? He's gonna think we're dead or we ditched him. We've got to find a way to sneak in to see him." Buck sat up straight, his chair coming down hard on all four legs

"We've got to do something." Vin agreed, crossing his arms in front of him. "We've got to let Ezra know we're here for him."

"Hell knows what Maude will tell him," Wilmington pointed out.

"We'll think of something." Nathan's voice was heavy as sleep pulled at him, but there was confidence in his tone. "We have to."

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_Ezra knew the truth as soon as he'd seen the look in his Uncle's eyes. Huddled on the grimy cement floor, biting back cries of pain as the blows came again and again, he'd been shocked when the strap flew back and snapped his uncle in the face._

_His uncle had paused, fury raging across his face as the split above his eye began to slowly bleed and then…he'd smiled._

_Ezra didn't understand as he his uncle struck himself two more times in the face. What was he doing? Then he'd turned on Ezra again and the look…Ezra knew, he was certain, this time he was going to die._

Memories and reality played tug of war as Ezra slowly regained consciousness. A fog shrouded him, but he could feel the tube up his nose, the needle taped to the back of his hand, the growing painful throb in his leg and the fiery ache in his shoulder and knew that he was in the hospital. He heard machines and monitors beeping and hissing in regular rhythms and remembered the doctor's harsh commands, the straps holding him to the stretcher and the loud angry voice of his Uncle claiming that Ezra was a danger to everyone around him, that he'd only reacted in self-defense.

"Ezra, darling." His mother's voice cut through the confusion and pulled him into the present. He remembered the storm. Swallowing painfully, he pushed the nightmare back into the depths of his memory and struggled to open his eyes.

"Everything is okay now, dear." His mother's thick accent should have been comforting, but he heard only the tightness there as he managed to blink and focus on her.

"There you are." She smiled down at him, her hair pulled up in an elegant twist. She was wearing one of her signature pantsuits as she stood beside him. She didn't touch him.

"Mother." His voice cracked as he spoke. His eyes traveled the small room, searching for anyone else. "Chris?" The question came automatically. Hadn't Chris said he'd be here?

Maude frowned and shook her head, biting back an angry retort. "Don't you worry yourself about Mr. Larabee, son. He can't be bothered to be here for you. You just put him and those other so-called friends out of your head and concentrate on getting better for me."

Ezra felt himself drifting again. He felt so weak. Something wasn't right. Chris had promised, hadn't he? But Maude said…. As the drugs and exhaustion pulled him back into the darkness his mind was swallowed by the confusion. He felt the fear rising…his friends…his family… They had turned away from him again.

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Chris sank down onto the double bed and flopped backwards, groaning as he bounced lightly. His chest ached as if the weight of his exhaustion, anger and worry was literally pressing him into the ugly bedspread. He wanted to just let go and sink into it, letting it all take him away. He wanted to open his eyes and be as far away from this tragic little town as possible. Maybe waking up on a beach somewhere, baking his hide in the warm afternoon sun and escaping from the memories that continued to attack him here.

The door of the double room banged open and Chris sighed, forcing himself to sit up again. "What'd you find?" he asked, pushing his worry aside for the moment. Visiting hours at the hospital had ended and they'd been given absolutely no leeway with the nurses. They wouldn't be allowed back in to see Nathan until nine tomorrow morning.

So the group had found a couple of rooms in the only hotel in town that the Red Cross hadn't completely taken over, and Vin, JD, Buck and Josiah went scavenging for food.

JD and Vin both carried armloads of food, mostly of the snack variety. Behind them, Buck followed with an armload of six packs of beer, a bag of Doritos hung out of his mouth.

"Convenient store across the street." JD answered as Buck spit the bag of chips onto the other bed.

"Had everything you could imagine and nothing you'd really want." Vin grinned, setting his assortment of chips, snack cakes and chocolate bars on the room's one table.

"Toss me a beer." Chris gestured to Buck.

"Sure thing."

After a moment of juggling, a can flew through the air. Larabee caught it easily and tapped the top. "What's that smell?" he asked, catching the bag of pistachios Vin tossed at him.

"Josiah's dinner." JD frowned, motioning toward the door he'd propped open to let the cool evening air in.

"What is it? Smells like Buck's socks."

"Hey, my socks don't even smell that bad."

"Nachos." Josiah entered carrying a plastic tray of chips smothered in school bus yellow cheese sauce.

Chris wrinkled his nose. "It stinks."

"Yeah, but its my comfort food, brother."

Chris shook his head. "Just stay by the door." He chuckled and opened his beer. Sucking up the foam, he took a long pull before setting it on the end table between the beds and opened his bag of pistachio nuts.

"Got a plan yet?" Vin asked, plopping down on the end of the bed and ripping open a bag of cheesy popcorn.

"For getting to Ezra?" JD handed Tanner a beer.

Buck gnawed open a package of beef jerky. "Don't want to do anything that'll get us kicked out for good."

"Think we can find a nurse willing to help us out?" Josiah sat at the table, dunking a tortilla chip into a large glob of cheese.

Chris shook his head. "Not in ICU. The nurse there probably already has me on a wanted poster for lying to her and getting her in trouble. Have to find another way."

"Maude's probably on guard," Vin added.

"Why won't she let us see him anyway?" JD asked. "We're his friends. Is she still pissed that he came back to chasing with us?"

Josiah waved a chip as he spoke. "Maude worked real hard to keep Ezra out of this business. All she wants is what she believes is best for him, and that happens to be working in one of her businesses or running one of her hotels. He is pretty messed up right now. This ain't a safe career by any means. You can't fault a mother for wanting what's best for her child."

"Sure you can." Buck disagreed with an easy grin and tossed a beer to Sanchez. The can went wide but Josiah reached and managed to catch it anyway. "Maude only wants Ezra because, despite hating it… he's good at being a CEO. He makes her good money. No more to it than that."

"Doesn't matter." Chris cut the argument off before it could really get going. "Point is, right now she's in there with him and we're not. Tomorrow we're going to try to do this the right way and persuade her to let us see him."

"You think that'll work?" Vin looked doubtful.

Chris shrugged, cracked open a pistachio and popped it into his mouth. "Gotta try and if it doesn't. Fine. They're not going to keep him in ICU forever. Once he's in his own room it's up to him who can come visit."

"What if Maude's already won him over?" JD asked hesitantly. "Like she did after Cox set him up?"

Chris felt his anger flare anew at the mention of the man who'd almost succeeded in splitting Ezra from them and ending their friendship.

"Ezra won't fall for that again, Kid," Vin answered confidently. "He knows where he stands with us now."

"Yeah," JD tapped on his can of beer and cast a worried look at the others. "But what if Ez is too sick to remember that?"

* * *

Ok, I admit. I made Maude a little more nasty than she really is. I can't help it. It's just so easy.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5/5

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Ezra watched his mother sitting in the ICU room's one chair as she flipped aimlessly through a magazine. He was so tired. It felt like all he did was sleep. Consciousness came in brief stages, a flash of coherence here, the sharp realization of pain there. In and out, in and out, he had no idea how long he'd been in the hospital. Had it been hours? Days? Weeks? All he knew for certain was that he was sick of nightmarish memories and that no one except his mother and the doctors and nurses had been in to see him.

"Have you heard from Chris?" he asked for the umpteenth time.

Maude looked up from the glossy pages and frowned. "I've told you already, dear. He wouldn't come."

It was Ezra's turn to frown. "Why?" His voice was a whisper, his strength already fading.

Maude looked down and picked at the corner of her magazine. "I do not know."

"Is Nathan all right?"

"Ezra, you need to stop concerning yourself with them," she snapped as his voice wavered. "They aren't worried about you, so why do you insist on wasting good energy on them?" She tossed the magazine and stood, stepping closer to his bed. "You need to rest and stop your worrying. Dr. Nells said if you continue to show improvement, he'd have you moved to a private room tomorrow." She patted his hand. "You look tired. Close your eyes and rest, darling."

Ezra obeyed his mother…partially. He'd learned it was just so much easier to do what she said than to fight her. He didn't have the energy to stand up to her right now. He closed his eyes, but his mind continued to roll through the things Maude had told him, trying to remember them all and sort it out. Was it really true that none of the others had even inquired about him yet? He couldn't remember anything except the rush of water and hanging…hanging. He flexed his fingers and recalled the sensation of Nathan's hand locked like a vice around his wrist. He didn't remember Jackson letting go. Was Nathan okay? What if…fear ricocheted through him. Was that why the others hadn't come to see him? He knew he couldn't ask Maude; the more he asked, the less she told him. God, he needed to see Chris. Chris would talk to him. Chris would tell him the truth about everything. He desperately needed the truth at that moment. Where was he? None of this made sense. Chris had promised to stay with him and Chris didn't break his promises…ever.

Ezra shifted and stiffened in pain. He gasped involuntarily and suddenly his mother was summoning the nurse for another dose of pain medication. He didn't want more medicine, but his pain stole the rest of his strength and he was too weak to protest. He wanted to stay awake, damn it. He wanted to think clearly and get out of the fog that surrounded him. He felt like a small child on the verge of throwing a huge tantrum, but too sleepy to do anything. If he'd had the energy though…Ezra smiled faintly, he'd enjoy his mother's reaction to that one. Feeling like he was sinking back into the unforgiving oblivion, he tried to hang on and fight the confusion. He missed them…Chris, Vin, Josiah, Nathan, Buck and JD. Lord, how he missed them. He felt so empty without them around to make noise and tease and just be there for him. They knew him better than any one else…they'd know what he needed. He didn't know how he was going to get through this without them and he wasn't positive he wanted to.

"Mrs. Harrington." Fuzzily Ezra tried to focus on the strange voice in the darkness. He strained to concentrate as he started to float and caught only confusing snippets.

"Mr. Larabee would like…"

"Absolutely not."

"You won't even talk to them?"

"No."

"How about…"

"I said no, Mr. Wright." Maude's voice sharpened dangerously and Ezra wanted to warn the strange man to watch out. He couldn't make sense of the words, but he knew Maude was furious. Finally, he gave up his struggle to stay conscious. It just wasn't worth it.

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"They're moving Ezra out of ICU this afternoon." Buck burst into Nathan's room, startling everyone with his excited exclamation.

"Shh!" A voice behind the privacy curtain hissed out angrily.

"Sorry." Buck apologized to the curtain. Nathan's new roommate was an elderly man who'd strained his back. He didn't appreciate the crowd or the noise so he constantly shushed them and kept turning the television up louder.

"How'd you find that out?" Nathan asked quietly, poking at his soupy green jello and wondering if he really wanted to chance eating it.

"Met a little nurse upstairs." Buck admitted slyly. "Real cutie with a nice set of…"

"Buck." Chris interrupted impatiently.

"Oh sorry." Wilmington scratched his chin. "Nikki said Ezra's due to be moved to a private room around 3 this afternoon.

"How's he doing?" Josiah asked, visible concerned. So far no one would even talk to them, let alone give them an update on Standish's condition.

Buck shook his head, his excitement deflating a little. "She really didn't know more than that. She just saw the note on today's schedule. Evidently, he's been deemed real important thanks to Maude and all."

"Has to be improving though, if they're moving him out of ICU." Nathan sounded hopeful. He tried to mentally run through all of Ezra's injuries that he knew about. Other than the leg and shoulder, he guessed Ezra had at least a few broken ribs like himself and the doctors were probably watching him close for pneumonia as well.

"This means we can see him now, right?" JD's question pulled Nathan ack to the ongoing discussion.

"Not as simple as that where Maude's concerned," Vin answered. "She'll probably give instructions to keep us out still."

"Does this nurse of yours know what his new room will be?" Chris focused on Buck.

Wilmington shook his head. "Nah, but she knows the floor."

Chris nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's a start." He looked at Jackson. "How would you feel if we risk getting kicked outta here?" Larabee had tried that morning to go through the hospital administrator to talk to Maude but she'd refused completely and he was done following the rules.

Nathan glanced around at his friends. "I think it's a risk you need to take."

The tv suddenly blared a little louder and several glares were directed at the curtain but they lowered their voices as they continued their discussion.

"Josiah, you'll stay here." Chris ordered.

"I'd like to be involved, Chris." Sanchez protested softly.

"I know that, but with the chance that we're about to get ourselves banned from the building I want at least one of us safe to stay with Nathan."

"I'll be fine," Nathan smiled reassuringly. "They're hinting at letting me out of here in a day or two anyway."

"I'm not leaving you alone." Chris was adamant. It was hard enough not having contact with Ezra, he would not let them be cut off completely from Nathan too, not again.

Josiah nodded wisely, accepting Chris's explanation without further argument. Despite his anxiousness to make sure Ezra was okay, he would trust the others to keep him informed. He would stay with Nathan.

"What are you thinking?" Vin quietly steered the conversation back to Ezra.

"Are we going to find his room and storm in?" JD's voice rose slightly and Buck gestured for him to keep it down.

"No," Chris grinned at JD's exuberance. "We'll spread out on the floor, watch the elevators and go from there. Let's try not to get arrested at least." He looked at Jackson and Sanchez. "You two better come up with a plan B just in case."

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Ezra felt miserable. His head pounded, his shoulder and leg throbbed and he was tired of his mother hovering about. He'd almost begun to feel human again when the fever kicked in and the coughing started. Right away Maude had been there demanding more medication. Though he was thankful for the break from the pain, he was tired of feeling groggy and incoherent. Even though the doctor's had decided he was stable enough to move to a private room outside the ICU ward…the nurses continued to voice several concerns about pneumonia.

Through the feverish, drugged haze that had become his world, Ezra wondered if the move to the new room was because he was actually improving or because Maude wanted a more comfortable and private setting to watch over him in.

He felt like he was floating as he was pushed along on a gurney. He'd tried to mumble a request for a wheelchair but Maude had adamantly refused and he was too exhausted to argue.

Ezra opened his eyes and counted the blurry lights that flashed regularly above him. The sounds changed, growing louder and louder at times and then quiet again. He didn't remember drifting off but when he opened his eyes again the lights were gone and he could tell they were in an elevator. The nurses and doctor seemed to be standing half on top of him as Maude smiled strangely down on him. It was a strange sensation, being in an elevator while lying down. The motion of the small car twisted his stomach and he closed his eyes, concentrating to fight the nausea.

His ICU nurse had given him another dose of medication right before the move and now Ezra could feel himself letting go. He wanted to stay awake but he didn't feel like fighting. There didn't seem to be reason to. Fuzzily he heard a soft ding and the mechanical grind of the elevator settling to a stop. The doors swooshed loudly and the gurney bumped over the rough threshold.

"Here, he's here!" A nearby voice almost shouted. A familiar voice. He knew that voice but couldn't place it as his mind grew numb.

"Ezra? Ezra we're here. Ezra, I'm here."

Chris? Was that Chris? Ezra tried to force his eyes to open and focus but his body rebelled against him. The voice morphed and swirled together with others. People were shouting, a lot of people. His mother's voice was loud and angry but he strained to hear beyond her, searching the din of voices for the ones that he most wanted to hear as he lost the battle with the darkness.

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"That was an idiotic stunt, Mr. Larabee." Kevin Wright paced his office, occasionally casting angry glares at the men seated across from his desk. "Not only did you disregard my instructions but you disrupted an entire floor of patients trying to rest and recover." He stopped and turned away from the small group, staring out the window. He suddenly couldn't help feeling bad for these men. All they wanted was to see their friend. "Maude Harrington wants you arrested and at the very least kicked out of the building. Give me one reason I shouldn't do as she asks?" He turned and faced Larabee and Wilmington again. The other two men, he'd forgotten their names, stood by the door. All of them continued to look defiant.

"Because you know she's wrong." Larabee kept his voice low and calm but Wright could sense the power and anger in the man.

Wright sighed heavily and looked down at the office's plush carpeting. There were days he really hated his job. He ran through the various consequences in his mind, realizing how thankful he was that Franklin Harrington was out of the country for another week. "Stay away from Standish," he finally looked up. "You can continue to see Mr. Jackson during normal visiting hours, but pull another attempt like this and you will be forcibly removed from this building."

Larabee's eyes seemed to smolder and Kevin found himself swallowing the sudden lump in his throat as the man stood and walked to the door. He'd opened it when the youngest looking man stepped forward. The man looked nervous but determined. "Can you at least tell us how Ezra's doing?" He paused, looking very young as he continued, "Please?"

It was the pleading tone and the genuine worry that broke Wright's will to completely close these men out. His shoulders slumped wearily as he sank onto the edge of his desk. "He's improving but slower than his doctor would like. The major concerns now are infection and pneumonia and he's running a steady fever. He's still pretty medicated and that's not leaving him very lucid." Wright frowned.

"He's in that much pain?" The long haired man's voice was raspy with emotion and Wright wished he could remember all their names.

"Some of its antibiotics and such. I think…" He hesitated, meeting the other's concerned blue eyes. "I believe that Mrs. Harrington is requesting the medication."

"Why?" Larabee's voice was hard.

Wright smiled weakly. "She doesn't want to see him suffer, Mr. Larabee. She means well." He met Chris' cold gaze. "When he is awake, the nurses tell me, he asks about Mr. Jackson…and you." The mixture of hurt and frustration that flashed across Larabee's face was more than he could handle and Wright turned back to the window and listened as the men quietly filed out of his office.

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"What now?" Buck threw his hands in the air as he sat heavily in the chair beside Nathan's bed. He answered the loud "Shhhh" from behind the privacy curtain with a rude a gesture. "They didn't even let us get close enough to talk to him. Maude just started shrieking and security came running."

"Do you think he knew we were there?" Vin's voice was raw with anger.

"I'm not sure he was awake," Chris admitted quietly. "I tried to get to him, but if he's as doped up as Wright said…I'm not sure he was aware we were there."

"Can Maude really keep him drugged up like that?" JD asked, looking at Nathan for the answer.

Jackson shook his head even as he sank back deeper into his pillows. He was so tired. "His doctors are monitoring him closely. Right now, they might agree that keeping him sedated will keep him from getting too agitated and hurt himself moving around too much or something."

"Like he might if he's anxious and wondering about us," Buck added.

The room was quiet save for the annoying drone of Wheel of Fortune behind the curtain. Someone was excitedly buying a vowel.

"Damn it." Vin punched at the wall. "We need to find a way to let him know we're here, that we're trying to get to him. Anything so that when he is awake enough…he'll understand."

"Gentlemen." The group looked up at the nurse entering the room. She smiled sweetly as she stepped around Josiah and JD and carried an arrangement of purple and blue flowers behind the curtain. "Someone has been thinking of you today, Mr. Dillard." They heard her chatter easily with the room's other occupant. A couple of minutes later, she moved past them all again. "Visiting hours end in ten minutes," she reminded kindly as she left the room.

Josiah looked at Chris and smiled widely. "I think I have an idea. How much money you got on you?"

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Ezra stared groggily at his breakfast tray, uninterested in its contents. The restricted diet was already old; this morning's meal included cream of wheat….he didn't have an appetite for any of it.

Maude was there already, suspiciously cheery as she read him what she deemed entertaining tidbits from the local newspaper. She refused to give him any information about the storm or flooding, and he'd finally stopped asking. CNN was muted on the TV and he stared up at it while his thoughts wandered. Though his doctors had finally agreed to cut back on his medications, he didn't remember much of the previous day and he had a strong feeling there was something important he should be recalling. Everything, though, was a jumble of odd scenes interspersed with nightmares. He hated drifting off anymore. Twice now, he'd woken up with harsh shouts that had Maude paging for the nurses. The first time it was just another memory of his uncle, but the second time, the second time he'd been hanging, clutching onto Nathan's arm and when he'd looked up searching for Jackson…Nathan had been wide eyed and lifeless. His dead body the only thing keeping Ezra from floating away in a rush of muddy water.

Ezra blinked, trying to chase the horrific image from his mind. Nathan had to be alive. Ezra wanted to believe that but worry and fear prevailed. No one would tell him anything about Jackson or the others. Loneliness pierced him, bringing a heaviness he didn't even want to fight.

The door of his private room opened and Maude lowered the paper, scowling at the unannounced interruption.

"Good morning, Mr. Standish." A petite blond nurse entered the room, completely unabashed by Maude's glaring. She held a simple floral arrangement. Ezra's eyes widened as she winked at him and placed the arrangement on the table next to his bed.

"Who's that from?" Maude asked suspiciously.

The nurse continued to smile as she turned the arrangement just so. "It's a complimentary gift from the hospital's auxiliary club," she explained easily. "They donate arrangements every year." She leaned closer to Ezra. "Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?" she questioned almost suggestively.

Ezra swallowed slowly, not daring to look at his mother. "No, thank you." Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Buck saying, "Hello-o Nurse!"

"Okay, sweetie. You don't hesitate to buzz if you find you need a thing. Just ask for Nikki." She turned and sashayed out of the room, winking at Ezra one more time before the door swung closed behind her.

"Well," Maude half snorted in disgust. "She was appalling."

Ezra rolled his eyes. "She was sweet."

Maude laughed loudly, pushing herself out of the chair. "I'm sure you'd think so. She was almost throwing herself at you. Shameful." She straightened her dignified blouse and walked around the bed to the table. Haphazardly, she searched the flowers. "There's no card," she sighed with exasperation. "You'd think after all the trouble I've gone through to be here every day and to get you settled into a very nice, private, expensive room…the least they could do is provide proper nursing care."

Ezra listened to his mother mutter about the hospital's hiring policy as she moved back to her chair. He looked at the flowers beside his bed and smiled. There, nestled in amongst the simple daisies was a small Galileo thermometer, with its clear glass tube and floating balls of colored liquid. Settling back onto his pillows, Ezra closed his eyes, relief seeping through him. A Galileo thermometer. He'd only just started collecting them and, so far, his meager collection included two, a large 24 inch one that hung on his porch and a smaller version he'd put in the kitchen of his tiny apartment. Only six other people knew of his affinity for the unique thermometers.

Suddenly, he felt as if the constant fog he'd been stuck in was lifting and he began to see more clearly what had happened. He didn't have all the answers yet, but as he opened his eyes and focused on his mother, he finally knew how to get them. A half hour later, after he'd successfully persuaded his mother that the only thing he truly needed was some of her special gourmet, Indian Darjeeling tea…he called the nurses' station and requested to see Nurse Nikki.

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Maude paused outside the closed door of Ezra's room preparing herself for another day with her son. It pained her to see him this way…hurting, weak and ineffectual. How many times had she warned him this storm chasing dream of his was going to get him killed? Not only was it dangerous, it was embarrassing. How do you explain at a society event or a hospital fundraiser that your only son is nothing more than a crazy man chasing after the wind? It angered her; Ezra had so much more potential than that.

She looked down at the tin of tea in her hands. She'd need to get someone to make it for Ezra. Sighing, she shook her head. How maudlin she'd become, driving all the way into the city just for tea. She'd never coddled Ezra this way when he was a child, but if little things like this would help bring him back to her…then taking hours to get a cup of tea was well worth it.

Smiling, Maude squared her shoulders and pushed into the room. She froze. Her eyes swept over the empty private room. The can of tea crashed loudly to the floor, bouncing once and sliding into the wall. The bed was stripped, the television off. There was no sign of occupancy at all.

Fear struck first, no…it couldn't be. Ezra'd been improving. His fever had broken and the doctors were hopeful that pneumonia would not set it. They'd assured her the infection in his leg was normal and minor. No there had to be another explanation, the fear in her morphed into anger. It filled her and drove her, fuming, from the room. Larabee.

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Chris followed JD into Nathan's hospital room, anxious to check on Jackson. It'd been a long evening of restless boredom at the hotel. He and Vin had worked on the trucks because the vehicles always needed working on, and both he and Tanner needed something to do. Then, he'd researched some area weather patterns with JD and Buck. He'd managed to keep busy and yet the heaviness of waiting made time crawl.

Josiah's flowers had been delivered early this morning and they had yet to hear anything. They weren't even sure Ezra had received them or that he'd understood the message. Chris was determined. Not only had he made a promise to stay with Standish but he also needed to physically see for himself that Ezra was okay. He had to get to Ezra today and, even if it meant jail, he was going to find a way.

Nathan had gotten so frustrated with all of them and their impatience that he'd ordered them out of his room for a lunch break. "Take a long long lunch," he'd snapped. "Mr. Dillard is getting discharged and we don't need you getting in trouble by being in his way. Besides, I want to rest a bit without all of you staring at me because you have nothing else to do."

Josiah had made certain they took a couple of hours and Chris had to admit even with his concern about Ezra, getting out of the hospital helped immensely. He felt a little rejuvenated and ready to find another way to get to Standish.

"Hey, Nathan, you get any rest while we were gone?" JD's voice was loud as he entered the room and Nathan immediately quieted him, motioning to the pulled privacy curtain.

The five men stared at the room divider, stunned. "I thought you said he was getting discharged today." Vin looked at the curtain with confusion and irritation, his voice barely a whisper.

Nathan shrugged carefully, flexing his strained shoulder and grimacing slightly. "New guy," he answered softly.

"Well, hell." Buck leaned against the wall. "This sucks. Too bad you couldn't get yourself a private room."

"Private rooms do have some advantages but they're not all they're cracked up to be." The voice behind the curtain was soft, but distinctively clear. Five pair of eyes turned from Nathan who was now grinning widely to the opaque curtain.

Vin moved first, whipping the curtain back out of the way to reveal Ezra, comfortably ensconced in the room's second bed.

"Why the hell is the curtain closed?" Buck demanded with a look of shock.

"He wanted it closed for his sponge bath." Nathan's voice was light and teasing. "Wanted privacy with Nurse Nikki."

"Mr. Jackson." Ezra snapped with annoyance.

"You got a sponge bath from Buck's nurse Nikki?" JD's eyes widened.

"Not quite," Nathan answered, ignoring Ezra's stuttering protests. "He fell asleep before she could finish."

Everyone looked at Ezra.

"Thank you for the lovely flowers." Standish nodded to the arrangement now perched on the windowsill, redirecting the conversation. "It was a pleasant surprise to discover I was in your thoughts." He pretended to ignore the teasing chuckles but they were the best medicine he'd had in what felt like a very long time.

"You never left them, brother." Josiah smiled with relief. Despite the pale, tired features, Ezra looked well. It was the best thing he'd seen in days.

"Yes, well, if I'd have been a little more clear headed before now," Ezra smiled sheepishly as they surrounded him, questions about his welfare overlapping questions about how he'd gotten there. He looked up at Josiah. "I'd have realized that."

"I told you Nikki was a sweet thing." Buck grinned broadly after hearing Ezra explain that he'd recruited the young nurse to help him get transferred to Jackson's room.

"What about Maude?" Vin asked.

"I'm afraid I sent her on a fool's errand." Ezra frowned. "I'm sure she'll have returned by now. We'll be hearing from her shortly."

"Can she have you moved again?" JD questioned, fear rising in his eyes. They'd just gotten Ezra back. His family finally felt whole again.

Ezra met JD's gaze reassuringly. "Despite what power my mother thinks she wields around here, now that I am able to adequately voice my wishes…she is powerless to do anything about it."

"Like hell I am." Maude's voice surprised all of them. She stood in the doorway, glaring angrily at the satisfied looking group. "I'm having you moved back upstairs immediately," she informed, ignoring everyone but her son.

"No. You. Are. Not." It was the first time they'd heard Ezra speak so harshly to his mother. "I'm staying right here," he explained, somewhat more gently.

Maude seemed to shrink a little as she cast a disparaging look at the men sitting around the room. "Why?"

Ezra smiled softly. "Because they're my friends, mother. I need their support and encouragement just as much as I need yours." He paused, willing her to understand. "We're a family," he admitted, not able to look at anyone else. He'd never shared that he felt that way with them before and wouldn't be able to bear seeing different.

"I won't accept that." Maude lifted her chin, anger returning. "They drag you down. You have so much more potential than…this." She waved at the hospital bed. "I will not accept this," she repeated. "You want a family? Fine, but it's them or me." She refused to react to the hurt she saw in her son's sad eyes.

"Maude, please." Josiah tried to intervene.

"Shut up, Mr. Sanchez," Maude bit out. "Stay out of it for once."

Ezra never took his eyes from hers. "I'm staying here." His voice was heavy, his accent thick. "With them."

"Fine." Maude nodded curtly. "Do not expect me to be there the next time you're hurt or need money or anything. You want them, depend on them, then." With that, she spun and headed out of the room.

Blinded by angry tears, she didn't see the woman in the hallway and they collided. "oh."

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

Maude blinked at the woman holding onto her arm, her eyes taking in the plain oversized sweat suit, simple ponytail and lack of makeup. "Is this Ezra Standish and Nathan Jackson's room?" she asked.

Maude stared a moment, not wanting to answer, but her curiosity won out. "Yes, why?"

The woman's large brown eyes filled with tears. "I need to thank them."

Maude frowned. "Whatever for?"

Through her tears, the woman smiled and Maude realized she was actually quite pretty.

"If not for them, I'd have lost everything." She spoke with emotion and Maude felt inexplicably drawn to her as she listened. "The storm, it came with out warning," the lady explained. "Destroyed everything, the whole house, and when we dug ourselves out…we couldn't find Bobby." The tears thickened and she swallowed. Looking up, she met Maude's gaze. "My son."

Maude felt her heart constrict.

"We didn't know if he was still in the heap that was our house or if he was somewhere else." She gestured toward the room Maude had just stormed out of. "These men, they just came to help." The younger woman shook her head, her ponytail bobbing cheerily. "It didn't matter that it was dangerous or that it was still raining. They didn't even hesitate…they just started searching." She took a deep breath. "It was because they were helping us that they got caught up when the river flooded. I need to thank them. I need to see them and say thank you that they were willing to sacrifice so much for us."

Maude looked from the woman to the door of her son's room. "And your son?"

The woman's smile brightened. "They found him. They brought him back to us safe and sound."

"Good." Maude found herself saying as the woman finally moved to Ezra's room, knocked lightly and hesitantly pushed the door open. Maude wanted to stay angry, to lash out and attack Ezra for his choices, but her anger was just…gone. She didn't accept it, she guessed she never would, but for a moment she understood why Ezra chased his storms and, for a brief instant…she was incredibly proud.

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Ezra woke with a start, a shout and a cry of pain.

"Easy, you're okay." Chris' voice was a low whisper near his ear and he blinked his eyes open.

"My apologies," he whispered, breathing heavily as he shook off the effects of the dream.

"Don't be an idiot," Chris reprimanded. "Need a drink?" He reached for Ezra's hospital issued oversized mug of water, but Standish waved him off with his good arm.

"Did I wake Mr. Jackson?"

Chris grinned and shook his head. "No, Nathan's fine. Bad dream?"

"Of a sort." Ezra was not ready to share his nightmares of Nathan's death or his history with his uncle with Chris yet.

Chris watched Ezra closely. He knew it'd been an emotional day for the southerner, first the fight with Maude and then the visit from Mrs. Davis. Visiting hours were almost over and, sensing exhaustion in both Nathan and Ezra, he'd already sent the others back to the hotel. "Anything I can do?" he asked.

He watched as the emotions scrolled across Ezra's face. Pain, exhaustion, hurt…before a smile settled and his green eyes opened lazily. "You're already doing it," Ezra admitted thickly.

"And what exactly is it I'm doing?" Chris waited but Ezra was already asleep again. Larabee looked down, surprised to realize that Ezra's hand was lying on top of his. He gripped Standish's long fingers and squeezed gently. "What am I doing?" He repeated quietly.

"You're not letting go."

Chris' eyes snapped up to meet Nathan's. He hadn't realized Jackson was awake. "What?"

Nathan smiled tiredly. "I don't think Ezra's ever had friends or even family like us."

"Like us?"

"The kind that refuse to let go."

Chris frowned. "I don't understand."

Jackson adjusted so that he was facing Chris. "He grew up with Maude and God knows who else. What's the first thing she does when things get tough or unpleasant?"

"Takes off," Chris huffed.

"And what'd Cox do?" Nathan saw the anger rising in Larabee and waved him off. "Right, exactly, he ditched him, too. What Ezra needs most is just someone willing to stick around. Someone who'll keep hanging on no matter how hard it gets." Satisfied Chris got the point, Nathan closed his eyes again, turning so he wasn't pressing on his sore shoulder.

Chris watched, realizing that Nathan had lived his point, not letting go of Ezra no matter how tired or hurt he'd been. Looking down at Ezra again, Chris focused on the scraped and bruised fingers holding onto his. "I can do that." He promised. "I can do that."

The end.

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thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the whole story. And thank you for the reviews -I appreciate them.


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